He was forced to cease pouring Light into the Prince of Bones’ armour as he had been doing, melting layer after layer, to rip out his sword and cut through the arrow that would have gone through the back of his neck. The towering Scourge backed away, swinging his blade more to force distance than strike, but Hanno would have none of it. The edge of his sword flaring with Light he carved through the steel, craning his neck to the side to avoid another killing arrow.

A dart forward had him closing the distance, the Prince of Bones tossing the broken sword in his face. He ducked low, dropping into a roll to avoid another arrow – the Hawk must be close – and slashing across the Scourge’s face. The pristine steel mask was scarred, metal melting down from the mark. A leg, Hanno decided. The Prince of Bones was heavy enough that without both legs there would be no escaping. Clouds roiled above his head, magic flaring, but Hanno pressed on. A half-step let the Prince’s fist slide past him and he slid under, hacking at the side of the Revenant’s leg even as lightning began pouring on them both from above. Hanno grit his teeth, throwing up a burst of Light that dispersed the sorcery over his head as he carved deep into the Prince’s leg.

Not deep enough, he thought as he rose behind the Scourge’s back. Another arrow swatted aside, but it had been a distraction: darkness fell over him. Hanno grit his teeth, flaring Light through his heated veins enough that the Mantle’s curse shattered. Just in time to see the Prince’s foot about to hit his stomach. He threw himself below it, a screaming curse shattering the stone he’d been standing on, and as he rose behind the Prince again he listened to the call of instinct and struck out with his hand – catching the Seelie’s knife as it was about to thrust through his throat. Letting out an irritated grunt, he bent the Scourge’s arm and rested the flat of his blade against he neck.

It was not a mercy: using it as lever, he pushed the Seelie’s head into the hole of molten metal he’d left in the Prince of Bones’ back.

An arrow hammered into his shoulder, going straight through the plate, and with a pained grunt Hanno let out a burst of Light through the wound to get it out. He’d still lost his opening for a killing blow on the Seelie, who had turned into a bed of dead flowers. Magic was rising again but Hanno had to step out of the way when the Prince snatched up a skeleton and swung it at him like a club, the arc of it covering the Mantle’s shivering curse until it was right on him – he desperately pivoted to the side, smashing the pommel of his sword into the Seelie’s half-melted face when she reappeared trying to drive her knife into his side. The curse shaved away at his pauldron, rusting the metal to powder, and the Seelie ducked the swing that would have hewn open her skull.

Then the storm hit, and it was all Hanno could do not to be blown right off the wall.

Soldiers behind him were not so lucky, and the dead were scattered by hurricane winds – turned into trebuchet stones as they hammered into Praesi ranks – but Hanno pushed forward, Light burning in his belly. He saw the Prince of Bones retreating, the silhouette fading out of sight, and with a scream of frustration he shaped a spear out of Light and tossed it at the Scourge’s back. It missed the mark by a foot, and even as he grit his teeth the Scourges disappeared into the inner city. A full retreat.

- Book 7, Interlude: Legends IV